Setenta

There's a place I like to go and hide
It's a place that's locked down deep inside

It's a trip I don't very often take
It's a journey I only sometimes make

In payment for the gladness and joy to be had
I render my tears and walk away sad

So I wait for my heart to tell me when I can go
And I enter with caution, my steps ever slow

I find the key and unlock the place
That holds the memory of my mother's face

By closing my eyes I simply can find
I'm a child again -- my adult years behind

Ever so anxiously I wait to see
The beauty of her -- the one that once held me

The torrent of memories come pouring in fast
Of the most endearing times of my childhood past

She's every bit the person I remember her to be
And never once is she not smiling at me

We visit the places we used to like best
Like Randhurst and Dunkin and all the rest

I linger there with her and wish I could stay
As a child who never wants to end her own play

Then I remember the woman I've grown up to be
I reach in my pocket fumbling for the key

I look up to kiss her and tell her good-bye
But she's no longer there --I'm left wondering why

She left me so suddenly and I wasn't aware
For the rest of my days, she wouldn't be there

But the present is beckoning me to come back
So I crawl from my past through the tiniest crack

I seal up the space and lock it up tight
And look for the darkness that's black as the night

My tears fill my eyes until I can't see
But I feel her presence like she's still here with me

I reach out to touch her --Mom, is that you?
I knew you'd not leave me, that you missed me too

My eyes are much clearer for now I can see
That's not my mother there before me

But the essence of her that once held me close
Is alive in the children I simply love most

The ones that grew in me a mother's heart
Are the ones that will bring me back to the start

For now I know what it's like to be
The beauty of her -- the one that once held me